


The Best Worst Thing

by twelvepercentofaplan



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies)
Genre: Drinking, Gen, Humor, One Shot, POV First Person, Platonic Cuddling, Post-Movie(s), Sharing a Bed, Shit happens when ya drink a lot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-16
Updated: 2015-04-16
Packaged: 2018-03-23 07:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3758869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twelvepercentofaplan/pseuds/twelvepercentofaplan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I know Groot like the back’a my hand, Quill like the back’a someone else’s foot, Drax like a, erm… I dunno. Point is, I got a good idea of how to get along with everyone.</p><p>Everyone 'cept Gamora.'</p><p>Rocket's fixed on the idea that he's gotta know everything about everyone on the ship since they've only been a group for a couple weeks now. Quill and Drax? He's got 'em down. But Gamora's a hard book to read in this case.</p><p>So he figures that maybe alcohol can help with that. And that leads to them inadvertently having their first dating experience with anyone.</p><p>(Little awkward, little stupid. Just for humor and to shamelessly plug 'Risky Business' 'til the fuckin' cows come home.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Best Worst Thing

**Author's Note:**

> I don't even know why I wrote this or where it came from. Idea popped into my head last night while I was thinkin' up stuff for 'Risky Business' and this came along.
> 
> Also, unlike 'Risky Business', no, they ain't a couple in this. If I continued with the story, yes, it would've gone down that path probably. But this is just a one-shot deal.
> 
> Title's inspired by the song 'American Beauty/American Psycho', AKA: these numbnuts fuckin' theme song, let's be real.

“Honestly, I just don’t understand **_why_** you brought me here.”

There’s a moodiness in her voice, almost like a serious case of backsass, but I don’t take it to heart. I just take another swig from the bottle of sweet-yet-bitter black alcohol and wipe my mouth of the bit that dribbles down my chin. It’s probably a natural quirk of Gamora’s that I haven’t come to realize is permanent yet. She sees me ‘n’ the other numbnuts’ ideas of ‘recreational activity’ as ‘nothin’ like the definition of recreational activity’ or, as she actually puts it, ‘for imbeciles.’

So this drinkin’ me ‘n’ her are doin’? Yeah, she don’t like it. Or at least she’s _**pretendin'**_ she don’t. This is the only other time we’ve gone out to a bar since we’ve all been a group for the past two weeks, the last time bein’ that shady place where Groot did his thing coz Drax set the both of us off. Forgive and forget, I guess. Plus I ain’t one to hold a grudge against someone who goes outta their way to try ‘n’ take me outta the biggest depression pit of my entire life. That pettin’ thing was… nice, even though it was comin’ from him and took me off guard. Didn’t think anyone ‘sides Groot’d willingly wanna touch me.

Point is, I’m also not one to let someone sit in the ship all the while me ‘n’ Quill and Drax go out and drink. Funny thing is that Drax didn’t end up comin’. Stayed behind to tend to a certain plant in a pot who he swears to the Gods is a dancin’ machine. Have to see it to believe it, but I let him have the benefit of the doubt on that one.

But Gamora’s gone from someone I never thought I’d get along with in a millenia to someone I’ve been curious about from time to time. I know Groot like the back’a my hand, Quill like the back’a someone else’s foot, Drax like a, erm… I dunno. Point is, I’m at least gettin’ somewhere with gettin’ to know Pete and Drax. Quill’s a fun guy, definitely someone to have a drink with and get a good laugh out of. Drax is more like my shoulder to lean on, I think , if I needed it. The ‘Dad’ vibe just radiates off’a him and he seems like a pretty trustworthy guy. But Gamora? From what I’ve gathered in the past two weeks, she’s quiet, somewhat reserved, but it’s not like she wears constant bitchface and rips your throat out if ya ask her to pass the fuckin’ salt.

Assassin stereotypes are as bad as bounty hunter’s. Not all’a us are out to kill everything even if it’s innocent. Sheesh. We got some good left in us.

“Figured ya’d say that,” I remark as I settle the bottle back down onto the wooden bar, the smooth shinin’ in the dim light. “Ya didn’t go out much before, didja?”

“In this sense, no.” I wanna laugh at the smugness in her voice, but I keep my tongue bitten down on. “I’ve never seen the sense in getting drunk and waking up in the morning with a hangover.”

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t seem like a fair payoff at the end of the day.” My ear flicks slightly as if I’m disgusted, and I kinda am. That’s the worst thing ya could say to a drunk like-okay, I ain’t a drunk. But c’mon, really? “What’s with the ear flick?”

“I am _**disgusted**_ ,” I grumble sarcastically.

“Oh, please,” Gamora says, followed by a ‘tch’. “You can’t tell me you enjoy waking up in the morning after a long, hard night of pouring alcohol down your throat with a killer migraine and a grumpy attitude.”

“Half’a that happens on the daily, and it ain’t the migraine.”

Gamora manages a laugh-an _**actual**_ laugh-at that. “Please. You aren’t bad in the morning.”

“Ain’t bad at night either, if ya catch my drift,” I say in the most Star-Dork voice I can muster and an eyebrow wiggle. And the disturbed look I receive from Gamora forces me to add, “Jokin’, don’t take my head off or nuttin’.”

“Right,” Gamora groans like she doesn’t believe me. “But do you enjoy the stomach aches, fatigue, thirst, all of which comes with a hangover the following day?”

“In the mornin’?” I shake my head and go for another swig from the bottle in front’a me. “Nah.”

“Than what’s the point?”

Again, this crap keeps fallin’ down my chin coz havin’ a frickin’ snout like I do just makes drinkin’ outta bottles a lil’ difficult. So I wipe my chin off with the back of my hand again and respond to Gamora with, “It helps ya out in the moment, Gamora. There’s days I wake up and just know, ‘I need a fuckin’ drink tonight.’ Shit happens.”

“Right in the morning?”

“So many questions, not enough alcohol. Yeesh. Have a drink!” I gesture to the grand wall of alcohol that sits ahead of us behind the bar. “A Timothy? Somethin’ fruity and sweet? They got some’a that d’ast blue stuff we had on Knowhere? Anything. I’m payin’.”

Gamora blinks. “Really? **_You’re_** paying?”

“Well, with Quill’s units, yeah.”

“Thief.”

“Sober person.”

“Quite an accusation.”

“Hell yeah it is.”

There’s a few minutes of silence between us, mostly of us just enjoyin’ one another’s presence, I think, before Gamora picks up the conversation again. “Can I ask a personal question?”

“Hm?” I say into the lip of the bottle.

“Is tonight one of those nights?”

I blink. Is it? Am I feelin’ like I need to drink three times my weight in tar-colored alcohol coz I’ve got troubled thoughts itchin’ at the back’a my head? Am I feelin’ like I’m in need of somethin’ I can’t get to? Am I just thinkin’ that maybe, just maybe, none’a these guys need me and that they’re better of without me?

Guess what? Nope. None’a those are right.

“It ain’t, actually, one’a those nights,” I say wholeheartedly. “I mean, it hasn’t been one’a those nights since the room in the hotel in Xandar.”

See, it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out why I was havin’ one’a those nights on Xandar. Few days after Ronan, just got finished bein’ checked out by doctors for any wounds, and I didn’t have Groot to go to. And he’s growin’ back strong now, but at the time none of us knew if it was gonna work. And… y’know, it’s hard to just accept that maybe your best friend’s gone for good. So it was a hard day-hell, a hard week- for me ‘til I saw that twig sprout a leaf.

The thought’a those days does get me down a bit, though. Not so bad I start cryin’ and screamin’ and repeatin’ everything that ever happened in that hotel room, but it does bring my mood down when I let out a sigh of frustration. “Prob’bly shouldn’t’a said nothin’ ‘bout that.”

“I’m not going to intrude, Rocket,” Gamora says assuringly. “Just curious. I understand it wasn’t the easiest ordeal for you.”

I shrug and look back into the bottom of the bottle. “Yeah, it’s whatever.”

Gamora frowns at that and a moment later, stops the turquoise-skinned man behind the bar with a hand on his shoulder. “A bottle of your best Krylorian scotch. Two glasses, too.” A nod and a, “You got it,” later, I’m givin’ Gamora the shocked look of a lifetime.

“Wait, you’re gonna actually drink?”

“I may not get out much, but I get out enough to know what I like, Rocket.”

I grin. “Good. Coz we both know if I ordered for ya you’d be wasted like two drinks in.”

“Of course you would do that, you conniving idiot. I was an assassin. I know a plot brewing when I see one.”

A moment later, Gams’ seriously unbelievable order appears before our eyes (which the tender tells us is aged for fuckin’ **_ten_** years-like, holy **_shit_** ) and she pours my drink and then her own. Krylorian scotch is a wicked, glowing shade of yellow and is pretty damn pricey even when it’s been aged for at least one year. So ten? Probably ten times the original price.

I go to tell Gamora that we can’t afford that, but she stops me. “Peter can, though. He owes me.”

“Two weeks on the Milano and he already owes ya for somethin’?”

“For being a complete idiot and for a comment he made to me last night.”

“Wait, wait, wait. What was it?”

Gamora hesitates for a moment, eyes shootin’ to me, to the glass, and then back to me as she imitates Quill’s voice in a whisper, “That ass is poppin’.”

I snort, clamp a hand over my mouth, and try to hold it in. I really, really, really tried. But Gamora gives me a heavy sigh and a hand gesture as to say, ‘Go ahead, laugh.’ And I do so, gettin’ quite a few looks from a few people around the bar, includin' the tender.

“It’s not that funny,” Gamora mutters with a glare.

“It ain’t, but the fact that he thinks he’s gonna get a girl like ya with that stupid ass line is pathetic.”

“A girl like me?” Gamora asks into the lip of her glass inquisitively.

“Yeah, a girl like you. Smart, hella good at kickin’ ass, don’t take no shit. You’re a real catch, Gams.” No, this ain’t me hittin’ on Gamora. This is me bein’ an okay guy for once in my miserable life.

“Really?”

“I mean what I say, Gamora. Don’t take it for granted if I compliment ya.”

“Is that why you brought me here? For a date?”

I freeze coz that’s quite the accusation. “Uh, no? Not necessarily. I just wanted to get to know ya better, I guess. That-”

“That’s what people do on dates, Rocket.”

Is it really? “Really?” Gamora nods, a smile slightly creepin’ at the edge’a her lips. My tail hits overdrive and starts swingin’ back and forth at 800 miles an hour and I gulp nervously. “Well, uh, that wasn’t my intention. I mean, we’re all livin’ together. I don’t know much ‘bout ya ‘sides Thanos was a real dick and turned ya into somethin’ else.” I reach my hand behind my back and grab up my tail to stop it from flailin’ about like a frickin’ pendulum. Thankfully, it stops.

“Seems unlikely that you didn't know that, Rocket,” Gamora says doubtfully as she finally takes a sip of the bright yellow liquid. She doesn’t even wince at the taste like I’d expected her to. “You seem like quite the ladies man yourself.”

I give her a scoff and an eyeroll. “Yeah, right. Look at me, Gamora. No one really wants to go on a date with _**this**_.” I’ll admit, I’ve never been on a proper date. Only time was once and it was to set up a bounty. Let’s just say she was a lil’ less than pleased to see her date wasn’t a tall, broad-shouldered Kree guy and instead a tiny loser with ears on top of his head and a tail. “Gimme a good reason anyone would.”

Almost immediately, Gamora quips, “You have a sense of humor that tends to brighten our moods despite it being mostly sarcasm, you’re a loyal person to your friends, as indicated by what we’ve seen of your interaction with Groot...” She leans over in her seat and looks down at the back of mine. “And your tail is just a tad adorable when it swings about like that.”

“It ain’t swing- ** _stop it right now, you mother fucker_**.” Apparently it’s got a mind of it’s own, my tail.

Gamora snickers into her drink as she takes another sip while I struggle to get this thing to stop movin’. “Three reasons right there.”

Wow. She really took that damn seriously. “And why’d ya gimme three?”

“Because I figured you’d like to hear it from someone that also has no experience with dating that you’re a… what was it you’d called me? A catch?”

Holy fuck. Why’s Gamora nice? I mean, like I said, I didn’t think she was a completely serious, business only person, but she’s bein’ genuine ‘bout this. Sheesh. “R-Really? Ya think so?”

“Why not? You’re a person just like the rest of us in the galaxy. You walk and talk and eat way too many portions at dinner for your size.”

I roll my eyes. “Got an appetite I can’t exactly satisfy ‘til I feel like I’m about to explode-”

“Like a _**rocket**_?” Gamora teases.

“Yes, explode like a rocket.”

“Well, unlike most people,” Gamora continues, “you do enjoy being…” She suddenly stops talkin’. “Erm…”

“Bein’ what?”

“Remember what Drax had done? After Ronan? In the-”

“Oh.” That’s all I say at first as I recall that moment. “Well, yeah. Sorry,” I say defensively. “It feels good.”

“I’m not accusing you of being anything less than a person, Rocket. I imagine it does. I just wouldn’t know.”

I shrug. “I mean… Groot did it all the time before he got turned into a plant in a pot. Scratched my ears, head, back, belly, all that. Dunno why I like it so much, but it just-” Gamora stifles a laugh as she takes a sip again. “What’s funny?”

“You let Groot do all of that and yet you act as if Drax petting the top of your head is the most embarrassing thing to ever happen to you?”

I roll my eyes and say in my defense, “Hey, if ya think I’m gonna back down from that loser givin’ me a fuckin’ belly rub, you’re **_wrong_**. Call it old animal instinct or somethin’.”

We both laugh at that before I raise my glass. “To bein’ the best catches the galaxy’s got to offer?” I say in hopes Gamora’ll accept.

And a moment later, we clink our glasses like a couple’a nerds and down our drinks like it’s nothing.

* * *

 

“Ohhhhh, fuck **_me_** ,” I grumble when I come to due to this terrible, alcohol-induced migraine. I don’t remember how I got back to the ship last night, but I do know it wasn’t through me stumblin’ my drunk, furry ass back into my room. I’m still fully clothed in the blue flightsuit Nova provided, too. Usually I’d change and…

Wait… am I even in my room? Hang on, I-

The smell of somethin’ sweet, yet undeniably familiar, fills my nostrils and makes my stomach churn. Wait, that’s not why my stomach hurts so bad. It’s probably from the hangover, since I’m also gettin’ the feelin’ of a headache, a grogginess in my body, and a terrible taste in my mouth. But for the most part I keep myself focused on the smell. It’s nice, a little strong, but it’s not bad at all.

I’m real frickin’ warm, covered with a blanket with somethin’ else that’s a little heavy flopped over my side. I can’t open my eyes coz the oncomin’ headache’s not really wantin’ me to do that. But the warmness ain’t too bad. I actually like it a lot. It feels nice, like I have somethin’ around me that’s not gonna lemme go. Cheesy, yeah, but it’s a nice feeling.

I reach up with an achin’ hand and rub at the appendage flopped over my body, and realize it’s the familiar feel of skin. Smooth, only covered up at the wrist and hand by a material I can’t place at first. Feels like a glove, but it’s- _ **oh**_.

I know who this is.

I strain to open my eyes in the dark’a the room, and mumble, “‘Mora?”

I’m shocked she responds, grumblin’ in a miserable voice, “We are never going out to drink together again.”

I look up to meet Gamora’s tired, sick gaze and grin. “Not bad for a first date for the both of us, huh?” I joke.

Gamora rolls her eyes, gives a sigh, and slowly rubs her hand along my head. “Rocket, please go back to sleep.”

Gamora was way to good about that. She could’a kicked me outta her room and called me a dumbass. But only she knew in that moment that Quill’d shoved both of us in here when he found us both wasted and fallin’ all over ourselves.

She prob’bly would’a felt bad if she kicked me out.

“Thanks,” I say as I press my face between her collarbone. “Not a bad first date, though, right?”

Gamora doesn’t give me an annoyed sigh or a punch to my face with the whiskers to die for. Instead, she says with a stern voice, “Don’t get your hopes up on having another date with me, Rocket.”

I snicker. “Yeah, whatever ya say. But ya gotta admit that I’m comfy as hell to sleep with, yeah?”

Silence before Gamora admits, “Yes. Now please let’s sleep more. I’d like to wake up with less of a headache than I’ve got right now and you’re sharp voice isn’t helping.”

So we settle back down and eventually do doze off to sleep. I curl in tighter, fully acceptin’ Gamora’s offer to continue to sleep with her in her room while she strokes me down my head and neck. It’s the best thing to happen in a while, and I definitely needed it.

Turns out it was one’a those nights, but not in the sad sorta sense. I just knew me ‘n’ Gamora could use some time away from the Idiots of the Universe to loosen up a bit. And this isn’t how I imagined it goin’ down, but hey, I ain’t complainin’. S’not everyday ya get to sleep in bed with Gamora.

And as we drifted back to dreamland to escape our fuckin' own respective hangovers, the last thing I mumbled before I finally dozed off was, “Alcohol’s the _**best**_ worst thing in the galaxy.”

And ya can’t tell me I’m wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> Rocket's damn right. Alcohol is the best worst thing in the galaxy.
> 
> He's also a nerd who needs to be pet. Pass it on.
> 
> If ya enjoyed this go check out me and divisionten's story 'Risky Business'. In that, Rocket and Gamora are a legit couple but it's very plot heavy and the aspect of 'em bein' a couple's not really the main thing. It's prominent but the actual plot is important, too.
> 
> Comments are appreciated.


End file.
